Nightingale
by shutdown.exe
Summary: Broken due to the hell called the Mojave Wasteland, the Courier has seen things that left her psyche marred. It doesn't help that the Legion's Fox awakened her darker instincts as she struggles to offer nothing but kindness and good. [Work title formerly "Red".]
1. Chapter 1

Sunset.

Shades of reds, oranges and pinks painted the Mojave sky. The wind speckled a young woman's hair with sand, like glittering gold suspended in wine under the warm light. She was walking in a hazy dream, a multitude of colors surrounding her as she walked down the blistering road. Not long after, the moon showed up in the night sky, her radiant glow illuminating the Mojave. In another life, perhaps if she didn't choose to work as a courier, the girl would have taken out a camera and immortalized the spectacular view. It took the young courier some time getting accustomed to the ever-changing skies of the Mojave. She still remembers her first time setting foot outside quite vividly, and after the events that transpired within the week, she held on to the memory more than ever.

Lost in her thoughts, she was brought back to reality when the putrid smell of burning rubber, rotting flesh and charred bodies invaded her nostrils. The smell was so overwhelming; her eyes started to water behind her biker goggles. She was a few steps away from the town of Nipton. Aside from passing through the town to reach Novac, Ranger Ghost asked her to check up on the town, and she was damn right to ask her to do so. A chill ran up the courier's spine upon seeing what became of the town; she stood rigidly in her spot, trying to process what she was seeing. Ransacked houses, burning tires and corpses; things no human should ever see. And yet, here she was, mortified; the sight is too familiar for her.

A raving lunatic of a Powder Ganger ran up to her screaming and raving about a lottery, catching off her guard and almost prompting her to shoot him in fear. From a distance, she thought Powder Gangers hit the town due to the smoke, just as Ranger Ghost had suspected. She didn't expect to see the Gangers strung up on poles. Crucified bodies lined up in the streets, welcoming her to a nightmare. The sound of fire crackling and the cries of the crucified melded into a singular cacophonous noise. Pillars of smoke rose from the burning corpses and tires. The entire town smelled of smoke and death; it made her sweat and her skin crawl in horror.

Treading the streets of Nipton all by herself, save for the dying Gangers and her robotic companion floating by, she took hesitant steps towards the town hall. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins when the courier thought of what Ranger Ghost had told her: she needed eyes and ears, not her life. She should just run. Run back to the outpost and tell Ranger Ghost what happened to the town. She glanced over her shoulder and the Powder Ganger was no longer in sight. The billowing smoke invaded her lungs, making her cough and heave. Her knees were shaking and her head was spinning. Moments later, she found herself lurching forward and throwing up at the roadside. The smell of burning corpses and tires were too much for her to stomach, and her fear too much for her to contain. Death and decay loomed over her.

The courier wiped the vomit from her lips and chased down the burning sensation in her chest with a bottle of water, washing down the sour bile. She removed her biker goggles, allowing them to dangle at her neck, and wiped the sweat from her brow. Her stomach is in knots and almost emptied. Swallowing thickly, she pressed forward, putting her goggles back in place to protect her eyes from getting irritated by the smoke. The doors of the town hall swung open and men in distinct red uniforms emerged.

Taking out her 10 mm pistol from her holster as a precautionary measure, she approached. Her heart was hammering in her chest so hard she thought her ribcage was going to burst. A tall man wearing a dog's head emerged last. His skin is as pale as the moon that had shown up in the night sky. Any other day and it would have been a breathtaking transition from a warm sunset to nightfall, but the sight of the town's destruction, the man coolly striding towards her, his wolfish appearance, and the moon ominously hanging above them drowned out the beauty of the night and replaced it with pure terror.

The wolf man stopped briefly, eyeing her from head to toe behind his dark goggles. He made her feel uneasy, as if she was easy prey, ready to be taken and devoured. She aimed at the man, hands trembling ever so slightly, as he approached her with an air of power and dominance. The courier tried not to show her fear. For some reason, a line from a pre-war nature documentary she once watched echoed in her head. _Most canine predators such as foxes and wolves have a highly developed sense of smell. They can smell prey, even when they are far away._ She let out a sharp exhale as they continued to inch closer towards each other. Maintaining eye contact beneath their goggles, their bodies are only a few feet away from each other when he finally spoke.

"Don't worry, I won't have you lashed on to a cross like the rest of these degenerates," he said. The wolf man's voice sent a delicious chill down her spine. "It's useful that you happened by."

 _Run._ That was the only word in her head as the man described in detail the atrocities he and his legionaries had committed. The courier thought she must be going crazy, because as he described how morally dissolute the inhabitants of Nipton were, she found herself thinking that they deserved it. She berated herself for this way of thinking. _No, no, no one deserves this inhumanity. Even the darkest of souls can be redeemed… right?_ She knew she had better morals than that, but the moment she opened her mouth to speak, all she could ever say, perhaps out of fear, is that she admires the purity of the Legion's justice.

 _Fucking weak, you're so fucking weak_ , she thought to herself. _You can't even stand for what you believe in just because you're being intimidated by this murdering, shit-eating dogfuck_.

"It has a stark beauty, doesn't it? I'm glad you can appreciate it." He towered over her and gazed upon her, his eyes fixated on her. Her eyes scanned him, and closer inspection reveals thin, delicate lips, a well-formed nose, sharp, chiseled cheekbones that looked like they were sculpted by ancient Roman artists, and icy blue orbs that can undress her with one look beneath those dark goggles. _This smug shitfuck looks like a saint yet his actions were far from saintly; how could the universe allow such a dissonance? It's unfair_. The wolf man knew she was observing his features and he couldn't help but wonder what was running in that little red head of hers. Smirking, he pressed himself towards her, gauging her reaction. The courier stood firm, her chest pressed against his stomach, made aware of the fact that he towered her by around a foot. She did her best to look defiant despite her forced agreement with his twisted sense of morals.

"Now go, and teach them what you learned here. There will be more lessons in the days ahead."

And just like that, he was back to being ice. As soon as the wolf man was out of sight, she ran. She ran as fast as she could until her lungs were burning. The courier ran so swiftly even ED-E has trouble catching up. Muscles aching and lungs almost giving out, she reached the Mojave Outpost, clinging to the gates to support her failing legs. She scanned her surroundings, and saw Sergeant Kilborn patrolling the premises. Hurriedly, she hobbled over to him. "Easy there, you look like you've walked a ways," he said, a tinge of concern in his voice. "Legion's attacked Nipton, burned and killed everyone," she managed to croak out, distress obvious in her voice, and still panting from her run. There was a look of shock in the sergeant's face.

"What… There's no way…" he finally spoke after a few seconds of stunned silence. Her ears were still ringing from the adrenaline so the rest of what the sergeant said were blurry, but he said something about the Dam and being not able to stop the Legion. "We're doomed… Thanks for bringing the word. Even if the news is bad, I'll let the men know." The courier silently nodded before forcing herself to climb up the planks and relay the intel to Ranger Ghost. There was liberal cursing.

"Fuckin' Mojave is going to hell and all I can do is sit here and watch."

Ranger Ghost's words echoed in her head as she cleaned herself up in the barracks' latrine. As she washed away the grit and sand from her hair, her mind brought her back to Nipton. She had seen enough violence and this world for someone her age. Then again, the Wasteland isn't kind. The courier knew there were people who are less fortunate than she is; she had seen them suffer. Trying to think of anything else, her mind wandered to the wolf man. She could still feel his penetrating gaze that made her feel vulnerable and… _soft_. Cursing to herself, she shook the thoughts off and rinsed off. The courier traced the bullet scar on her right temple that Doc Mitchell had stitched up. Doc took pride in his needlework, and it's only proper that he did. It was admirable that he managed to put her face back together after being shot in the head.

Lacey sold her some food and drinks and she quietly ate her meal. The woman was nice, and offered to play Caravan. It was a good thing Lacey wasn't good at it and the courier hopped off the barstool with her pockets a little heavier with caps. Despite the events earlier, she is thankful the NCR allowed her to sleep in the barracks. Having a place to sleep in the wasteland was a luxury, and she learned that the hard way. As she lay on the battered mattress of the bunk bed she occupied, she toyed with the Pip-Boy Doc Mitchell gave her. It showed her inventory, a map, and her current status. The Pip-Boy says she's really tired, a fact that she knew of, and that she was slightly irradiated. With a few more pushes of buttons, she smiled. "Ooh, radio," she quietly exclaimed to herself as she discovered this function. She set the station to Radio New Vegas. Her eyelids were sunken and heavy as she listened to the news, ED-E floating near the bed. "ED-E, come here," she murmured, and the eyebot descended beside her. The courier turned to her side and patted the cold metal of her robot companion. "Good night ED-E."

That night, her usual nightmares didn't come. The courier didn't dream of her old home or splattered blood from wailing children on the walls of the hallway. The courier didn't dream of blood-curdling cries for help and standing there unable to do anything, smoke and maniacal laughter dancing in the air. The courier didn't dream of the man in the checkered suit shooting her in the head as she knelt before him. The courier didn't dream of screaming for help in a shallow grave, maggots eating her alive. There was only smoke, fire, and icy blue eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Failure.

Weeks of trying to hunt down the man who shot her not only once, but twice in the head went to waste as he managed to escape. _That fucking asswipe_ , she thought to herself, eyebrows furrowing and heartbeat rising again. Her knuckles were turning white from the anger, dismay and disappointment; mostly for herself. Her conscience didn't allow her to shoot him in the head right there, just as he did to her next to her shallow grave in Goodsprings Cemetery. Dragging herself towards the exit of the Tops, she planned to drink herself to the point of collapse that night, much to the concern of her blonde, bespectacled friend.

"Benny escaped, so what? You've made a huge difference for the Mojave along the way," he spoke, adjusting his glasses that slid down the tip of his nose. Next to him was the Courier's personal eyebot. The tall blonde doctor offered her a gentle pat on the back. The downtrodden lass weakly smiled back. "If you ask me, your journey was a wonderful learning experience. You managed to turn your anger and frustration for the man into something more fruitful." The courier smiled and laughed at her companion's remark, but she didn't say a word. "Besides, if you really want to settle your unfinished business with him, we can always try tracking him down. The wasteland isn't such a huge place, in fact-"

"Arcade, I'm sorry for interrupting you and I appreciate you trying to lift my spirits up, but right now, I really am fucking exhausted," she said solemnly. "I spent weeks hunting that son of a bitch down and it's a goddamn shame I couldn't bring myself to shoot the bastard in the head just as what he did to me," the Courier lamented, scratching her head. "A golden opportunity, turned to fucking stone. All because I'm not strong enough to kill him." Arcade looked at the shorter girl for a few moments, smoothing out his Follower's labcoat. "Valuing life isn't weakness, my friend. You did the right thing." He placed a hand on her head and they continued towards the exit.

The Courier counted her loose caps and shrugged. "Good enough for lots of stiff drinks at the Wrangler," she said, before shoving them back to her satchel. "I know you're upset, but is drinking to the point of liver failure really necessary?" Arcade inquired, the look of concern on his face. "You worry me when you drink." She smiled at him. "Don't worry about me. I have you, I have ED-E, and I have Cass," the Courier grinned, looking forward to spending the night in a drunken stupor. "Ugh, she's right Arcade. I mean goddammit, she's already past eighteen. She can handle herself," Cass finally said after a few moments of uncharacteristic silence. Then again, it wasn't too out of character since she was too busy taking swigs of whiskey the entire time to talk. "It's not like a little booze is gonna kill her."

"Gee Cass, I don't know. I just don't want our young friend here to spiral down into alcoholism, like some people here," he retorted dryly, earning him a snort. "Oh fuck off pretty boy. The best we can do now is make sure she gets home safe after she's done with the bottles. You're such a mom," she teased. "And you're the older sister who's exposing her to the vices and sins of the world," he replied, making the Courier throw back her head and laugh. "Okay, that's enough, you two. I need a fucking drink," she said, smiling genuinely in days. "Still going to go through with your plan? Such a stubborn child, I think I should ground you." After seconds of silence, the entire group bursts into laughter.

The courier met Sharon of Rose Cassidy the morning after the incident at Nipton, just when she was about to leave the barracks. The red-head looked tough, she'll give her that, but there was something in her tone that tells the courier that there's something wrong. After a conversation about whiskey, Cass told her what happened to Cassidy Caravans. Though the courier didn't know how to help any further, she took Cassidy's advice and went to The Crimson Caravan Company to find work. She was short on caps after all. One thing led to another and the next thing they knew, the courier was stealing important documents from those Van Graff psychos. After that ordeal was over, they stuck like wonderglue. Like two peas in a pod, the women drank, cursed and laughed together. Arcade was a different story though.

Without further ado, the group stepped outside of the casino, only to be halted when a familiar stranger greeted the Courier. He strode over to her, towering her almost by a foot; her eyes were drawn to his features, openly eyeing him, noting that he had beautifully chiseled cheekbones she could use to slash her wrists with. The courier felt frosty eyes burning into her. The moment he spoke, the memories came flooding back to her. The courier remembered the warmth of his weathered armor against her chest when he pressed himself against her during their encounter in Nipton.

"The eyes of the mighty Caesar are upon you. He admires your accomplishments, and bestows upon you the exceptional gift of his Mark," he spoke, his voice sending electric surges down the courier's spine, which pooled between her legs. The lass cursed in her head for finding the murderer attractive. She killed her fair share of people, but she swore all of them were done out of self-defense. The wolf man, though now in gambler garb, held out his hand and dangled a necklace; a Legion coin on a crude red string. "Any crimes you may have perpetrated against the Legion are hereby forgiven. Caesar will not extend this mercy a second time." Her companions stood from a safe distance away from her, anticipating the wolf man's next move. She could see Arcade's disgruntled expression and Cass's confused stare in her field of view.

The courier stood there in stunned silence, adrenaline ringing in her ears. Realizing the courier isn't going to move any time soon, the wolf man took her hand in his, making her gasp from the sudden contact. His hand was as cold as he was. Arcade was on the verge of reaching for his ripper. The wolf man placed the necklace in her palm and closed it with his firmly. The courier started to shake but did her best not to show it. "My Lord requires your presence at his camp, at Fortification Hill. His Mark will guarantee your safe-conduct through our lands," the wolf man said as he let go. The courier's hand that held the mark tightened into a fist. "What makes you think that I'll go? Are you Legion fucks really that stupid to realize that I loathe you guys?" she spat, shoving the mark against his chest. She knew being hostile with this mass murderer will probably end with her being strung up on a pole, but she had enough. It was insulting to think that they think they can win her over. "I'm not going. Tell Caesar that he can shove this coin up his ass."

Without warning, he grabbed her forearm and pressed her against his hard body. Arcade and Cass were ready to lunge at him, like a coil sprung too tightly. The wolf man tutted and pointed at the Securitrons. "Fucker, those metal shitheads can arrest you for pulling that on Courier," Cass spat, her face red with anger. "I'm sorry, but I believe I wasn't the first person to incite violence," he replied, almost purring. "I believe your friend and I needs to be alone for a _civil_ conversation, am I right, Courier?" The wolf man's other hand made its way to her right hip, almost crushing it under the pressure, then he leaned in. "Listen, whore. You can come with me, and I shall further explain why I came to this profligate city, or, I could forcefully take you and your friends to Lord Caesar. Surely, you wouldn't want the ghoul, the NCR dog and that doctor lashed onto a cross, do you?" he whispered in her ear, his breath puffing hot against her ear. "Oh, and Miss Cassidy and Miss Santangelo would make fine slaves too…"

The courier seethed with anger. He knew how to press her buttons; dragging her friends in this would make her think twice. "We'll just talk guys," she finally muttered, defeated, a look of disbelief upon her companions' face. Even ED-E is making concerned beeps. "I'll be back. I promise. Go back to the Lucky 38." She signed the letter B on her free hand, away from the wolf man's view, and Arcade knew what she meant. He nodded, and watched the wolf man drag her a few feet away from them before putting his harm around her waist. Cass is snarling at the wolf man's back. They walked away under the guise of lovers strolling in the moonlight.

Arcade and Cass hurried back to the Lucky 38. "Christ. Christ. That was Vulpes Inculta," Arcade muttered under his breath, looking visibly shaken, and blood cold in his veins. Cass's blue eyes widened in horror. "Wait, _the_ Vulpes Inculta? The prick in the NCR propaganda posters plastered all over the fucking Mojave Outpost?" Arcade nodded grimly. "Jesus fucking Christ. Should we tell Boone?" Cass asked him, giving him a meaningful look as they stood outside the elevator door. "No. Not yet. He might cause a scene. We need to know where he took Courier first." The two looked at ED-E and there was a moment of understanding. "ED-E, you know what to do," Cass said as she and the doctor stepped into the elevator. There was a series of beeps from the eyebot before the door closed.

The eyebot, using his advanced sensors, tried to figure out where the wolf man took his mistress, his best friend. He hid behind the fountains at the Ultra-Luxe as her mistress was pulled inside the hotel. ED-E hurriedly returned to the doctor and the caravaneer and started making distressed beeps. Arcade and Cass looked at each other. How were they supposed to understand this thing?

"Oooo-kay, calm down ED-E, calm down," Arcade started. "As much as we love your boops and beeps, we really couldn't understand you," he continued. ED-E made a few frantic beeps followed by a low beep of defeat. "Hmmmm… Courier did teach you Morse, right?" he asked the eyebot, earning an exasperated sigh from Cass. "You can't be fucking serious," she mumbled, putting a palm against her forehead. "Shh Cass, this might help us." ED-E made a series of happy beeps and nodded. "Now, where did the guy in the brown suit and hat take our Courier?"

"..- .-.. - .-. .- -...- .-.. ..- -..- ." ED-E beeped. "So that's U, then L," Arcade muttered to himself, making Cass bury her face in her hands. "Fucking hopeless."

"Dammit Cass, I'm onto something here," Arcade retaliated, pinching the bridge of his nose. "T… R… A… L- I got it! He took her to the Ultra-Luxe!"

"Who took who to the Ultra-Luxe?"

 _Shit._ Boone heard them.

"Oh um, you see, this ah, Follower's scientist," Arcade started, trying his best to come up with a story. "He, um, hooked up with… with…" _Ugh. What should I tell him? This has to sound like gossip. He'd be disinterested with that, right?_ ED-E started to frantically beep at Boone, who stood there, arms crossed and as still as a rock despite the eyebot almost plastered to his face. "I don't think that this is about that," Boone quipped, his voice clipped as usual.

"Vulpes Inculta took Courier to the Ultra Luxe."

 _Shiiiit. Cass, why?_

Boone almost jumped out of the Lucky 38 with nothing but his bare fists in a fit of frenzy.


	3. Chapter 3

Busy.

Doctor Arcade Gannon was filling in his last batch of tiring paperwork on that busy day when a petite girl came through the gates of the Old Mormon Fort. She spoke with the ever so kind Julie Farkas, dropping a few stimpaks, and made her way to Arcade's tent. The good doctor barely registered the sound of his tent rustling as she came in. "Excuse me," the girl started, making him nearly jump from his seat. _How could I have not heard her come in? The stress is starting to get me, huh?_ "Hi. If you're looking for medical help, try the other doctors. I'm just a researcher. Not even a particularly good- oh. OH. It's you!"

The girl awkwardly waved her hand. "Hello. You must be Doctor Gannon. I'm sorry for interrupting- I… heard you and Papa were good friends," she continued, trying hard not to stammer. "Yes! You must be Doctor Martinez' daughter. Rosita… no, Rosario, was it?" he asked, smiling. The blonde doctor couldn't help but notice that she is the splitting image of her father; big brown eyes, high cheekbones, an upturned nose, and a slightly wide mouth with ample lips. She even had his bushy eyebrows! The only difference is her thinner jaw and red hair.

"Yes! My name's Rosario. But ah, people call me Red or Courier," she mumbled and smiled sheepishly. "It's been so long. I don't know if you remember, but the last time I saw you, I was helping you differentiate the letter B from D… That was almost fifteen years ago. Oh, I'm rambling again," Arcade enthusiastically replied, happy to see the daughter of the man he once worked with. "What's up? How's Doc Marty? I'm take his endeavors of building a medical school is going splendidly," he asked, leaning back and stacking a few files together. "He's um… He's dead," Red managed to blurt out, her voice pained. "Papa's dead."

Arcade's bright smile vanished and was replaced with a look of shock, followed by a somber expression, anguish obvious in his eyes. "Matias is dead…?" The Follower mumbled, eyes glassy and fingers shaking. He needed time to think about this. Tears were on the verge of spilling from his eyes when he looked up and saw Matias' daughter openly crying. "H-his last wish was for me to find you. It was difficult, but here I am," the courier croaked out, pulling down her goggles and rubbing her eyes free of her tears. "Papa told me to give this to you," she continued, pulling out a holotape. Arcade shakily took it in.

The tall doctor, hunched over in his seat, eyed the holotape; he was still distraught. "He told me not to lose it, and not to listen to it unless you allow me to," Red added, her nose now congested and eyelids puffy. "I'll… I'll give it a listen, when I'm ready," Arcade responded, tracing the holotape in his hand. It was slightly weathered and was labelled with 'To: Arcade G" followed by '-Matias M' in the late doctor Martinez' handwriting. "Thank you, Red." He stood up and walked towards her to shake her hand, but he ended up embracing the girl.

Red readily accepted the doctor's embrace, eyes beginning to water again and she is hungry for the comforting warmth of another person. ED-E had been an amazing companion, but he's still made of steel. The two were still for a few moments and Arcade waited for the younger one to pull from the embrace. _Who knows how much she needed that?_ "I-I'm sorry. You should go, Rosie's probably waiting for you, and I shouldn't keep you here."

"Mama's dead too," Red responded, making Arcade's expression grimmer than ever. He didn't know what to do or say; he wasn't exactly a people person, though he was a doctor, and doctors need to have a good bedside manner. Red wasn't exactly a patient, though he felt the need to comfort the daughter of an old, old friend. "Oh, Red I am so, sorry…" he said in a low, sincere voice. "How long… when did they… how did they… die?"

Red's already swollen eyes began to water again. Doctor Gannon let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, I perfectly understand," he responded, clasping his hands over the holotape and looking Red in the eye. "No, please, it's okay. And, it helps me feel better talking about it," the young girl replied. Arcade led her to a seat. He's more of a physician than a therapist, but he was the best thing she had now, with the other doctors busy with the other injured people of Freeside. Besides, he is possibly the only person Red could talk to about this.

"Mama… died when the Fiends took Vault 3. And Papa, the Legion took him when he was tending to NCR's wounded soldiers during the first battle…" Red trailed off, looking at her feet. Her heart was pumping at the maximum and cold sweat poured from her skin. "It's okay Red, relax. Tell me everything you need to tell me."

"Papa and I were back from a trip…"

* * *

"Let me go! We gotta get her," Boone spat out, trying push Veronica aside, who threw her weight over the NCR sniper's body. Arcade was restricting him too, Cass was attempting to pull him free from the other two's grasp, ED-E filled the room with his frenzied beeping, Rex roused from his sleep, and Raul was shaking his head. "No! Not without a proper plan, mister!" Arcade spat back, struggling with keeping a one hundred and eighty pound man from reaching the elevator. "She's been there for over half a fucking hour!" Cass exclaimed. "She could be fucking dead, that Legion asshole could be raping her already, or he could be already hauling her ass off to Cottonwood Cove!" Cass screamed and thrashed. Veronica almost pommeled the feisty caravaneer with her power fist in an attempt to restrict her. "We can't just barge in there! There will be guards, Inculta might try something if he's made aware of our prescence-" Arcade started, only to be interrupted by Cass. "Well, what the hell do you propose?!"

"We should get Lily to get the _hija_ out," Raul finally said after watching the four of them struggle for the past twenty minutes. "I don't think bringing a hulking nightkin is the stealthiest option," Veronica quipped, holding Cass in the air. "And even if she _can_ turn invisible, I don't think she'll take it kindly when she finds out the person who she mistakes for her grandchild is kidnapped by a psychopathic Legion spy." Boone has calmed down and Cass has stopped struggling. "But there has to be a goddamn way," Cass replied, looking defeated and furious.

"Did she give you specific instructions before she left?" Boone finally spoke. "No! But she signed the letter B with her free hand when Inculta wasn't looking, so she wanted me to tell you to get her," Arcade responded sheepishly. Boone's brows furrowed and he grabbed Gannon by his lab coat firmly. "Then why didn't you tell me immediately?!" he demanded to know, tranquil fury in his voice. "I _knew_ that if I told you that an evil dictator's most notorious spy took Red, you'll barge out the door even if you were in your birthday suit! Which you almost did, except you're completely dressed, but unarmed!"

The sniper let go of Arcade and dragged his palm across his face before kicking a potted plant. "Okay, we'll come up with a plan. We're getting Martinez out," Boone rasped, his faded, dirty-white shirt drenched with his sweat. "But from now on, I need you to be completely honest with me," he added, looking at Doctor Gannon. "Are we clear?" Arcade nodded. He knew this was serious because the Legion is involved, and Boone spoke more than he did the past month.

While Boone was laying out a plan, the doctor couldn't get more concerned with the courier's mental health. Particularly, he knew the way Vulpes Inculta handed her the mark would trigger horrible memories.

* * *

"…a Fiend found me, he took my hand, smiled like a fucking maniac, and put a bullet on my palm. He almost crushed my hand when I wouldn't close it. He was about to take me away, but Papa shot him. We didn't even have the chance to look for Mama's body," Red blurted, gaze unfocused and still sweating coldly. Doctor Gannon had to hold her hand. "There were kids in there, for fuck's sake… I could smell burning and blood and… Papa was angry at himself for being unable to do anything to save the vault, and we were both ashamed we weren't there for mama." Tears are streaming down her face, staining her flushed cheeks.

"It isn't your fault… neither of you are at fault," Arcade began softly. "Don't blame yourself for such a tragedy. You were so young…" Red lifted her head and looked at him with a guilty stare. "But if I haven't come with Papa, Mama didn't have to die alone," she sobbed, palms against her head. "I could've fought them back, Papa taught me how to shoot! I just… I just…"

Thin, lanky arms surrounded her small form and all she can do was melt. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you. To your family," Arcade finally said after a few minutes of stroking her hair in silence. "Thank you Doctor Gannon," Red whispered as she let him soothe her. "Please, just call me Arcade."

* * *

"Gannon? Gannon, are you there?"

Boone was looking straight into his blank eyes. "Yes! Yes. I was just thinking about our friend," Arcade finally said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Alright, I'll repeat the plan," Veronica cut in. "Cass and I will dress up and go inside the Ultra Luxe. ED-E will help us using his sensors, and Boone will be outside to keep watch and possibly blow Legion boy's brains out. You and the rest will wait for us to return. Ready your medical equipment in case she's injured." Arcade nodded at the scribe. "Will do. I'll need to check if I still have Red's medication in stock," the doctor muttered, taking off his glasses and wiping his face with his sleeve. "Don't you have Med-X stocked?" Cass asked, one hand on her hip. "Yes, but I meant… never mind. I was just babbling again."

The wolf man had a vice-like on Red's waist as they entered the lush casino, hands still frigid and his bony fingers digging to the fat on her hips. Red tried not to wince as the monster brushed its hungry lips against her ear. " _Sileas dulcis fragum,_ " he whispered in her ear. _Did he just give me a nickname? And strawberry, of all the fucking things_. "If you keep quiet and things run smoothly, you can return safely to your little friends," he purred as they approached the suite he had gotten for the two of them. "You know what I think?" Red started, eyes like daggers. " _Caput tuum in ano est._ "

Her tormentor squeezed her hip forcefully that she let cried out in pain, masked as a moan to the others that were present due to the wolf man's close proximity to her neck. "You have a dirty mouth and no respect for a man of the Legion, as expected from a profligate." He pressed his lips softly on her nape as he opened the door. He pushed her inside and the door behind him clicked, effectively locking the door. The moment Red heard the lock, she lunged forward, ready to slice the wolf man with a razor she hid under her dress. He caught her arm and effectively disarmed her before throwing her to the bed.

"Stop. I'm here to discuss information that may be valuable to you," the wolf man spat as he pinned Red's arms above her head. "Eat shit!" Red screamed and tried to knee his crotch, but his body was too heavy for her to lift up her knee.

"Stop being difficult, woman, and listen to a man when he is speaking to you," the wolf man retorted, removing his tie and using it to restrain her further. "Fuck you," Red said, eyes defiant, her short red hair mussed. This earned her a hard slap on her cheek. "Alright, where were we? Oh, yes. My Lord requires your presence at Fortification Hill," he continued, stroking her red cheek in a mock display of affection.

"Incidentally, it will interest you to know that the man you seek has fled the Strip, and is likely making haste for Caesar's camp as we speak."

* * *

Translations for the gratuitious Latin:

"Sileas dulcis fragum" - Hush, sweet strawberry

"Caput tuum in ano est." - Your head is in your ass.


	4. Chapter 4

Curious.

That is the perfect word to describe the Legion's top spy as he observed the Courier sitting on a barstool in this hive of profligacy. She seems to be transacting with the profligate twins who runs the bar. Vulpes kept his senses sharp, his hat shadowing his face. He idly toys with the stale glass of whiskey on his table, which he purchased for the sake of display. Consuming alcohol is a wretched vice; it numbs the senses and makes a man weak and soft. He understands why Caesar forbids the consumption of this poison.

The Courier drops a weathered hat in front of them, and the female twin enthusiastically reacts, then points at the room at the floor above. The male twin steps forward and said something that piqued the Courier's attention. She nods at what he says repeatedly and has a pondering look at her face. The desert fox eavesdropped, listening intently to their quiet exchange.

"So, Courier, are you interested? It'll be worth the caps. Besides, it's about time we have some quality entertainment in this place. The new merchandise is good for raking in caps, but there's something missing, don't you think?" the man offered, crossing his arms. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. I'm hurting for more caps too," the redhead responded. "How much will you be paying me?"

"One hundred caps," the female twin offered, earning her a curious stare from the Courier. "Hmm. I think that's pretty cheap considering I've done, Francine. Say, if this draws a huge crowd, could you spare me a twenty five percent bonus?" she persuaded, her small fingers nursing her chin. "Besides, I need to replace the money I'm going to spend to be properly dressed for this."

"Oh, don't worry about what you'll be wearing courier, we'll provide that," the male twin mentioned, smirking slightly. "We'll have to think about the bonus."

"Deal. And thanks for covering the clothes, James."

"Be here by 9 PM tonight," Francine added as she hopped off of the rickety barstool. Vulpes watched as she ascended up the stairs to her new room. _So, Lord Caesar ordered me to follow a whore. This should be interesting,_ he thought to himself as he toyed with the Mark of Caesar. The wolf stood up and walked towards the bar, sitting in the barstool the Courier previously occupied. "I'd like to rent a room," he said as he placed some caps on the table. The female twin hands him the key. "Room up there's yours," she replied as she counted his payment.

"Who is that woman, the one with red hair?" he asked the twins, voice low. Vulpes heard the Courier's room door slam shut, but he's taking extra measures not to compromise his mission. "Oh, Courier? I'm sorry, we don't just give away the identities of our valuable clients," Francine firmly stated. "I'm sorry. Will this convince you?" Vulpes took out a small bag and tossed it to her. "Two hundred caps." Francine eyed him skeptically while her brother looked at him with suspicion. She started counting the caps and let James take over. "What do you need from her?" James asked Vulpes carefully, as skeptic as his sister. "I just want to get to know her. She's quite lovely, isn't she?" he replied, doing a believable impression of a bachelor smitten by a beautiful woman. "Heh, you bet," James replied, smirking. "I understand where you're coming from, but I'm afraid we can't do that."

Vulpes brought out another hundred caps. "Will another hundred convince you to tell me about the lovely girl?" he asked them. Francine shrugged. "Fine," she said as she snatched the satchel of caps from him. "She says her name is Red. Don't know if that's her real name, though. Always has that floating robot with her. Sometimes she comes here with one or more of her friends. She has a show here tonight at nine. That's all we're going to say." Vulpes smiled and stood up. "Thank you. I'll be sure to return to watch her performance." Vulpes walked up the stairs towards his room, intending to rest for a few hours before continuing his quest. As he unlocked his door, the Courier's opened and she steps out. They glanced at each other for a moment, the Courier bewildered and seemingly trying to recall something, before he pushed the door open and locked himself inside.

Time flies fast, and before Vulpes knew, it was five minutes until nine. He smoothed his crisp, brown suit and went down the stairs. Cigarette smoke polluted the lobby, clinging to his clothes and porcelain skin. He found a table and sat there alone, waiting for the Courier to make her entrance. One of the prostitutes offered her services, which he politely refused. Of course, this was only a show. He'd crucify that wench if he had the chance. And perhaps, he would crucify the Courier too, if Lord Caesar hadn't asked him to keep her alive.

The desert fox sat there, waiting for her to come out of the illuminated stage, expecting her to be clad like the cheap profligate whores in that appalling den called Gomorrah, but he found himself staring in wonder as she stepped on the stage, clad in a flattering black dress with scarlet trims, long red gloves, and old ruby jewelry. Her lips are delicately painted red, and her rosewood hair combed and puffed. Vulpes thought it was an oddity seeing her in this disgusting place. He'd expect to see something like this in the Tops, or perhaps the Ultra-Luxe if they held performances. The frumentarius leaned closer, interest growing by the second as the music started playing.

" _I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie,_ " she started singing slowly, voice silvery and smoky. The hairs on his body stood stiff.

" _All the day and night-time, give me sigh,"_ she continued. His cool blue eyes gleamed with curiosity, and though he would never admit it, delight.

" _I never had the least notion,_

 _That I could fall with so much emotion."_

Vulpes knew from the months that he'd follow her that this woman drank, smoked, polluted her body with medicine, showed mercy to the weak, and is an animal like the rest of the profligates and the dissolute, but he is feeling shameful and confused as he found himself enthralled by her. She is getting under his skin, and he vehemently refuses to acknowledge the feeling.

" _Could you coo, could you care?_

 _For a cunning cottage we could share_

 _The world will pardon my mush,_

 _Cause I've got a crush, baby on you."_

She paused for an interlude, subtly dancing and swaying her hips as she held on to the microphone, eyes closed. The legionary wondered why the Courier chose this song. Is she desiring another person, or did she choose to sing this just because? Why is he even concerning himself with what her motivations are, or how she felt? He watched her intensely, his hands clasped together and pressed against his lips, drawn in a tight line.

" _I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie,_

 _All the day and night-time, give me sigh,_

 _The world will pardon my mush,_

 _Cause I've got a crush, baby on you."_

The people occupying the surrounding tables applauded, prompting him to snap out of his stupor and clap reservedly. He quickly stood up and recollected himself as the Courier walked down the stage. About an hour later, she approached the twins again, wearing her usual garb composing of a red top, a black vest with similar pants, and boots with spurs. Vulpes tuned in once more.

"Wow. That was good," James started, crossing his arms. "Bet the Tops doesn't have an act like this. Anyways, here's your pay," he continued, handing over the caps. "That includes your bonus. You can keep the dress too." The Courier smiled sheepishly. "Thanks. I'll go now. Wouldn't want to keep Boone and ED-E waiting," she muttered as she pocketed the caps. "He's that NCR boy, right? Tall, silent?" Francine asked, eyebrow raised. "Yeah, why'd you ask?"

"You singing for him?" she asked once again, a smirk budding on her lips. "What? No," Red replied, chuckling slightly. Vulpes cringed to himself. _The NCR dog is with her? This will be challenging,_ Vulpes thought to himself. "Just felt like singing that song. Besides, he isn't over his wife." Francine went back to her task of wiping the table. "Too bad. Hey, by the way, a guy was looking for you earlier," Francine mentioned, earning her a curious look. "Really? Who was it? What'd he look like?"

"Tall, a bit skinny, nice cheekbones, blue eyes. You know him?"

Red froze in her spot. Could it be the man from Nipton? The man who ravaged Nipton, and whose eyes haunted her in her sleep for weeks? Red felt her heartbeat speed up. Adrenaline is rushing through her veins again. "No."

* * *

Vulpes recalled the day he heard the Courier sing as he pinned her against the bed, waiting for her response. He looked into her eyes intensely, while she did her best to avert her gaze. The wolf man's eyes were deep and penetrating; he could read everything she does. The Courier let out a sigh of defeat.

"Okay. We'll speak. No touching, no kisses, nothing of that. Are we clear?" she started softly, voice thick with fear. Vulpes slowly let her go and stood up. "Yes." Courier stood up and collected herself, smoothing down her dress. The frumentarius noted that she was wearing the same dress when she sang in the Wrangler.

"Who the hell are you? How did you know that I am looking for Benny?" Red questioned him, voice dripping with suspicion. Vulpes merely chuckled. "I am Vulpes Inculta, of Caesar's Legion," Vulpes started, introducing himself formally. _Huh, so I should be referring to him as the fox man instead of the wolf man then._ "I serve my master as the greatest of his Frumentarii. Little escapes the notice of Caesar's Legion. We know a great deal about the Vegas Strip, and the comings and goings of those who frequent it."

Red's eyes widened. "You're the leader of Caesar's top spies? Holy shit." Vulpes merely nodded, amused by the Courier's disbelief. "A bit… foolish of you to reveal your identity to someone who outright vilifies the Legion, but okay," Red added, digging inside the hidden pocket of her dress for a stick of cigarette. She considerably calmed down compared to when the Legion fox dragged her inside the room. "You asked who am I, and I answered. Of course Courier, what happens between us is strictly confidential. If you expose my identity to the NCR, you and your friends will pay dearly."

"I wasn't planning on it. Not after you told me about Benny," Red reassured him as she lit her lighter. "Oh, do you mind?" she asked him, flicking her wrist to emphasize on the cigarette. "How… quaint of you to ask me for permission. Yes, I do. The Legion disapproves of polluting one's body with vices."

A teasing smirk blooms on the Courier's lips. "Well, too bad." Before the Courier can light up the cigarette, Vulpes rushed in and held her wrist, making her let go of it. "Why slowly ruin your divine voice, Courier? Or those red lips? Or yourself, for that matter," we whispered, voice low and soothing. "N-none of your business," the Courier stammered in response, trying to move away from Vulpes.

Vulpes snaked his arm around her waist. "Hey, personal space buddy," Red joked nervously as he continued to lean in. The Legion fox forced her to look at him. "I said no touching, Inculta," the Courier continued to warn, trying to dismiss the intensity in his eyes. _Does he want me? This is messed up._

"How'd you know I can sing okay?" she whispered, doing her best to stall him from moving. "I heard you sing. Five times." It finally occurred to her that Vulpes watched her little act in the Atomic Wrangler, and her number in the Tops before she confronted Benny. But what about the other three?

"I-I'll go," the Courier managed to quietly stammer, desperately wanting to change the topic. Heat is radiating off of her body, while he remained stone cold. "Seek Caesar, by way of Cottonwood Cove, south of Nelson."

With that, Vulpes let her go, and smoothed his suit. He walked out the door, leaving her vulnerable once more.


End file.
